From afar

'Do you speak Polish?'

The question was posed as I arrived at her hospital bed this evening. She was being cared for by the nurses who seem to ply their trade with such delicatesse and tender care, but her most pressing question was whether or not I could speak her mother tongue.

'I myself am not Polish,' I explained, 'but I do know some words in your language'. That was fine. I could continue in English please and thank you ... as long as we celebrated the sacrament, all would be well. As I completed the ritual, I bid her good night. 'Dzenkuje' I said (Thank you), and her reply came immediately, 'Proshe barzo' (literally you're welcome). She then proceeded to explain to me that she had arrived some time ago in this city, and had located the Polish community, who had become her confidants, her guides in the ways of Canadian culture, and her mainstay in terms of connections to other folk. I couldn't help wondering what it must have truly been like for her to arrive in this country, so far away from home, from family and friends, and not even understanding the language at first.

What wonderful examples of courage some people are, and I'm fortunate enough to meet so many of them. If only I had time to listen to their stories, to learn more about their histories and to appreciate the vast knowledge and experience that so many people have brought to this country. If only we would take the time to appreciate these gifts, how much better we would all be.

With appologies for the spelling errors in the foreign tongue ... I bid you dobranoz.